I hear the water cry,
“I am your safety”,
but drowning sings
its dirge across my chest.
Hope urges faith
can walk across the sea…
My wounds burn in brine’s no
as I bleed another tear into the tempest.
Memory’s mutiny has unleashed suppressed,
and I feel the anchor of ghosts freed
from Davy Jones’ locker.
I am a fish forced to once again
swim a dead sea I thought I’d conquered.
I pray the demon’s spear will pierce the last revelation
so I will no longer fear a shadow will come to snuff my
candle.
Poor fish. Susie. Do you know that amounts of toxic chemicals and pollution in our Houston Ship Channel is measured by how far up the fish can come and still live?
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seems that we are all presently caught in an ocean wave that is carrying all of us out to the deep sea. some will survive and swim back because they've learned how to maneuver in these waves but many won't. I think I can discern the faces of those that will survive and those who may not hopefully the strong swimmers will help those that can't. oh, and wonderful piece!
ReplyDeleteI wonder how long the sea will remain a safe place for fish and mammal....
ReplyDeleteBless you, Susie. This poem knocks my socks off.
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